February 2

I don't want you to think for ONE MINUTE that this is going to be the only post about the wonderful, miraculous birth of William Timothy Wallis. But this is the one that has been in the works for a week or so and it just seemed fitting that I get this one out there first.

On February 2, 1998 the world lost one of the greatest men to have ever existed. That is my personal biased opinion, of course. On February 2, 1998 my dad passed away and my life was forever changed. Then, exactly 12 years later, the world was blessed with the most beautiful baby that ever existed. Again, my personal biased opinion. I was richly blessed on February 2, 2010 as God gave me the greatest gift he could give: one of his children.

Nine months ago when I found out I was pregnant, one of the first things I did was calculate my expected due date. It took me a matter of seconds to realize that I was going to be due less than 3 weeks after the 12th anniversary of my dad's death. At the time, that seemed like the most cruel joke God could have played, and I just knew that He would never put me in that position. How could He ask me to choose grieving the loss of my dad or celebrating the gift of my son? On top of that, what are the odds?

However, three weeks ago when my pregnancy took a more challenging turn I was quickly faced with the fact that February 2 was now a more likely birthdate for William than his actual due date of February 21. I was mortified. I have had countless conversations with God over the last few weeks on this one topic, and it wasn't until last week that I was finally at peace with it. I know that God has a divine plan for my life, and I know that He created William so perfectly in His eyes that there is no way His plan has a flaw.

The reason his being born on February 2 mortified me is simple. Selfishly, I did not want to have to give up "my day". For the last 12 years that has been the one day out of the year that I have felt I am exempt from the rules of life. If I want to stay in bed crying, if I want to shout from the rooftops of life's shortcomings, or if I want to breeze through the day as if it never existed - it has been my day. My friends have come to accept that some years I'll be fine and some years I'll be a wreck. And it is the one day that I allow myself to fully give in to my emotions, regardless of the potential consequences. While it may sound ridiculous that I would want a day to devote to sadness and to consume with thoughts of death, it was my day to do with as I pleased and remember my dad in whichever way I needed to at the time. And sadly, it seemed to be the only day left that I felt like I had with my dad. Throughout the grief process, as life moves on and the world continues to spin I have found my reminders of my dad and my connections to my dad have slimmed. But February 2 was forever going to be his day. How could I let that go?

But last week when I finally came to terms with the possibility, which turned out to be God's plan, I realized that things truly do happen for a reason. It's so poetic that its almost unreal that my dad's first grandchild, a boy who would be given his name, would be born on the anniversary of the day he died. A lot of things had to fall into perfect place for this to even work out this way. First, Austin had to get home from Arizona exactly when he did. I had to stop having menstrual issues that had been occurring for over a year. The baby had to be a boy, I had to have preterm labor issues, my delivery had to be as unpredictable as it was, and ultimately everything had to fall into place on this one special day. How could all of those things have happened if not for God's plan and control?

I've heard the opinions of a multitude of people on this topic over the last few weeks. Some people who felt, like I did, that it would just be too much to share the day and that it would just not be fair. Some people felt it would be too poetic for it to not happen, and some people who just felt that no matter what - everything would be ok. I have to say I do greatly appreciate every one's opinions and support, and I appreciate that there were varied opinions. How devastated would I have been if EVERYONE had been telling me how tragic it would be, only to find out that was in fact what happened? And how lonely would I have felt if EVERYONE had told me that it would be poetically perfect and that it just had to happen that way while I was still in the process of coming to terms with it? I needed the range of opinions to help me get from where I was to where I am now.

Possibly one of the greatest opinions I received was from my mom. After all, who knew my dad better? One of the hardest struggles I've had with having lost my dad at such a young age has been that I did not ever get to know him fully as a person. I was just too young. I haven't blamed myself for not knowing him or not paying enough attention, I've just found myself wishing that I had been older so that I could have known more about him. I wish I knew things about him like what my mom told me last week. After I told her the doctor's prediction of Feb 2, she told me that she thinks it would be a wonderful way to honor my dad. She told me that my dad hated for attention to be on himself, and he never wanted to be in the spotlight. She said he would much rather we all be focused on something else, someone else, and celebrating someone's life rather than continuing to devote the day to grieving our loss. Further, he'd be honored that it was his grandson who was able to carry on the cycle of life after death.

So while I didn't want to give up what I felt was our day, I've been able to come to a place where I realize I am not giving up our day. I don't ever have to give up the relationship I had with my dad, and I don't ever have to forget the man he was or how much he loved me. But instead of focusing on the sadness of his death, I can do what he would want and I can celebrate that his life has continued. In the form of family, in the form of his name, and in the form of a day becoming about life rather than death. If that's what he would want, then I can do that for him and I can feel like it has only made my connection with him that much stronger.

And so begins a new chapter of my life, with a new focus on the most symbolic day of my life. William Timothy Wallis is more perfect than I could have ever imagined, and that perfection began with the selection of his birth date.